Category Archives: suicide

Hello All! It has been a while since I have made a post. I have been meaning to do a post about stopping medications, but haven’t. I do not have internet access… well I do, a little bit from my phone, but I have decided to postpone that post to write this one. I should really write that one first, but oh well.

Excuse the rambling, as I am slightly intoxicated. Yes. I gave in to the evils of alcohol, but again, oh well, you live and learn.

So, if you are able to read my ramblings, then great. I know I have no attention span, when I look at blogs, if I am bored by the third sentence I do not read it, thank you ADHD! Anyway, here goes, and thank you if you have made it this far. Please excuse spelling errors, and grammatical errors, as I am not being a perfectionist now.

Okay here goes the point of this post….

She was a beautiful baby, born into innocence and pure love. She was such a little character, everyone fell in love with her as soon as they met her. As she grew older, she saw the evil and temptations all around her. It was extremely difficult for to ignore, she was surrounded by them (the evil and temptations) (and not the band) ;) She was not afraid of this, she felt at home, yet she was a little confused by the evils, because she noticed her friends did not see these evils, they did not see what she saw. And if they did, they did not tell her. Maybe they were scared as well.

Years went by, and she gave into these evils and temptations. She was hanging on by a thread, it was a miracle she made it through all of it. These evils that tormented and tortured her. No temptation was left a mystery. She did everything. She did not care about her life, not sure why. She was afraid of death, yet ready for it. She had lived in so much pain, she did not care if it ended. She did not think of anyone else but herself. Her family and friends did not matter. All she wanted to do was end the massive pain and hopelessness that lived inside of her.

The “evil” slashed right through her, bit by bit, piece by piece… it tore her apart, scarring her physical body and soul, until she was nothing but a pile of ashes. Her ashes stayed around, not sure of what to do or where to go, she just lingered.

Then after decades, all of a sudden a torrential windstorm visited her ashes and made her whole again. She was a bit perplexed and confused why this had happened. But it did happen, and that all that really matters. She was thankful, scared and happy that this “wind” decided to cross through her path, her ashes. She was reborn. The same person, yet different. Her eyes were completely opened to everything she had done. She was in unbearable pain for all the sins and wrongs she had committed. She felt like she did not deserve to live after everything she had done. All the pain and torment she had caused. She was able to look at everything she had done, and she did not want to experience anything like that again. She did not want to be that person anymore. She saw and finally realized how much pain she caused, how many lives she had ruined, how many she had tortured and tormented herself. She knew she did not do any of this on purpose, she would never want to hurt anyone intentionally, even though she did. Something has taken hold of her… mental illness. She had let it take complete control of her, let it tell her what to do. She thought it was her friend, since she lived with it for so long. It had comforted her in her time of need, like nobody else could. She trusted ‘it’. After all, it was part of who she was (or so she thought). It had been her worst fear and enemy, while it was comforting her and telling her everything was okay. At the time, she did not know any better. She believed in it, gave in it, gave herself to it. It was all she had. She did not know of any other way. It took over her life for so many years, it was all she really knew, it was that “familiar” feeling that comforts and destroys at the same time. It took complete control of her life, because she let it. Inside she did feel awful, she “knew” and “felt” her actions were not “normal”. She hated causing so much pain and torment. It still tries to make its way back into her life. Occasionally she gives into it, because it is just so easy. Other times she fights it with all she has, because she does not want to be the person she was.

It took her a very long time to accept responsibility for her actions, every wrong she had done. This was not an easy task at all. One of the most difficult things she has ever had to do was completely forgive herself and be able to move on with her ‘new’ life.

She had lived for so long filled with misery and despair, she did not know she could ever be truly happy. She never thought she could move forward, because she was consumed in the past and everything she had done. She sulked and sulked, crying night after night after all the pain and suffering she caused to others. She was a good person, and NEVER meant any harm to others. So it hurt her so very much that she had so easily hurt others. She was able to manipulate others and get away with almost anything. With her innocent eyes, and good looks, people looked past her ‘wrongs’ and forgave her, although she thought she did not deserve ANY forgiveness.

Then one day (by some sort of miracle) she woke up. She was able to see clearly, the REAL her woke up. It was like a massive smack to the head (that was long needed). She was able to ‘look’ upon her past and everything she had done, and again, by some sort of miracle, she was able to forgive herself. She told herself, “that was not the real you, and you know that, you are a good person, you would NEVER intentionally want to harm or hurt ANYONE, this was something else. You let it take control over you, because you did not care nor no any better.

So she forgave herself for what she did and did not do.

Her ashes caught fire and rose like a Phoenix and she was reborn… a completely new person. A better person. A person who could “see” things. This was always who she was meant to be… Bekr. She was kept alive, time and time again for a bigger purpose, something bigger/higher than she could EVER imagine.

She saw and felt hope, love and promise throughout her body, it engulfed her. It radiated inside of her, and she knew she was a new person. She knew she was no longer ‘that’ person. She knew and realized her purpose in life. Her purpose was to spread hope, love and awareness about mental disorders to others. To those that suffer from it, to family members who have to live with it, for everyone. To teach, to be a mentor. (Something she NEVER she thought she would/could ever be, all she thought was she could be and was a bad example to all). But she was able to change all of that. It has become her mission in life, to try and save others, for not another person to feel ‘alone’ like she had.

And this is what she has been doing for almost 3 years now. She never realized how rewarding it could be for herself and others. What she did not know is that her words and writings could/would affect anyone. Much less, make a difference any one life.

It keeps me going, and I feel a total responsibility to each and every one of you. I don’t, nor will ever have children, but I feel you are all my children (that may sound a little strange and cult like, but I do not mean it like that at all). You all have saved my life time and time again. You have all helped me through the difficult times.

Again, I have so much more to write about. But I will save that for later.

I am also working on writing my memoirs… that should be interesting.

So… for those that have read all of this blabbering, thank you for making it through. Having ADHD, I know how difficult it can get, especially when someone is rambling, which is what I feel this is.

Again: I am intoxicated, so excuse all errors, normally I am a bit anal about all of that. But obviously, right now I do not care. And I DO NOT recommend drinking while on your meds, it is not a good thing. It has been quite a while since I have had a drink, but I am totally stressed out, so I felt I needed it to make me feel better. Right now I feel fine, but later I will probably feel the guilt. Okay, anyway, I will end this now, before making a novel J Love you all, and thank you for following my misadventures, and being friends. You make a difference, whether you believe it or not. You have a purpose, whether you have found it yet or not. You are here for a reason, or many reasons. Okay, I will shut up now. B

If you would like to participate in this Series, send me a message and I will give you further details. Whether you lost a loved one to suicide or you have made attempts on your own life and are happy that those attempts were not successful.

I am very fidgety, I have to work on that while doing that while doing these videos. And I use my hands most of the time, but that’s just the way I am ;)

I decided I wanted to write about those “thoughts” most of us have, but we never speak of, say them out loud. One reason I am sure is fear and shame. Who would comprehend these types of thoughts. Who could we open up to about these thoughts and not judge us, or look at us like we are “crazy”? I am only going to mention a few, because there are plenty. I am doing this so others can see/realize they are not the only ones who think like this. And there should be no fear or shame for thinking these things. They are just thoughts, not actions. We do not act upon them (for the most part). I also think we have these thoughts because we have such vivid imaginations, it is difficult not to. So, today I am going to share my “disturbing” thoughts with you.

I will start with thoughts I had as a teenager. I thought everyone was watching me all the time. Like ALL eyes were always on me. It felt really uncomfortable. Sometimes, I could handle it, other times, I couldn’t. Like while in crowds, it felt like EVERYONE was watching my every move and/or talking about me. Judging me, laughing at me. Thankfully, I ‘grew’ out of that. That lasted a couple of years, and it kind of just went away.

Another thing I always thought of was when I was in bed trying to go to sleep. I would imagine an intruder (murderer) breaking in the house, I would wonder how I would hide, where I would hide so he could not see me and kill me. I would wonder which rooms he would go into first, I would wonder if my parents would get shot while sleeping. Things along this line of thinking happened often. I did not feel safe in my home, I was terrified. This, I also eventually ‘grew’ out of. It happens every now and then, but not as often as before.

Now the following I have always thought of, as a teenager and to this day. Sometimes I hate having such a vivid imagination!

The latest one is seeing myself in the bathtub, slit wrists, tub full of blood and I am slowly dying as the blood oozes out of my arms. As my hair dances in the water, I just kind of float there, staring up, slowly dying… peacefully. Feeling all of my worries, concerns and fears oozing out along with my blood. (This one I was actually planning on doing, I was really feeling it, almost ready to do it, then I confessed this to my husband and that is why he decided to take FMLA to stay with me).

Other times I see myself hanging from a rafter or beam. Just hanging there, lifeless. I have searched around the house for something like this just in case I were to decide to do this. Thankfully there is nothing in this house I could hang myself from.

Another one is when I am in a vehicle, I see the car hitting something and me flying out of the front windshield, colliding and bouncing on the pavement, bloody, body parts here and there. I am still alive, I see myself standing there and an angel next to me, staring down at my bloody, disfigured body, slowly dying. I am not in any pain as I slowly drift off into an eternal deep sleep.

This one I do not think of often, I think it is the most disturbing of all. I think of pouring gasoline all over my body and lighting myself on fire.

Sometimes I think of bashing my head in the mirror, over and over, until I see enough blood to satisfy my need to see my blood pouring down my face.

Other times I imagine myself in a public location and a gunman shooting everyone in sight, including me.

Another one is me jumping off a tall building, plummeting to my death.

The overdosing on pills I no longer think of, because I have tried that one many times and the outcome was not fun at all. I also tried the gun thing and was not successful. I could not do it…. thankfully.

______________________

I guess the worse part of all of this, is that I can so VIVIDLY see it happening. Like watching a movie, they seem so real.

And the last one I will write is me at night hoping, wishing not to wake up. (I think that is a popular one among us, along with the ‘just disappearing”). The sad part is I think this even when things are going well. I wonder, why would I not want to wake up when things are okay, when I am feeling good and ‘happy’? It does not make any sense to me.

Seems these thoughts have become second nature. They just pop in when they want to. When they pop in and stay for a while, I try to distract myself so as not to think of them. We can control our thoughts. I know this. But I am 38 years old and have been thinking like this for so long, it is not an easy task to do. But I know it can be done, and when that day comes… well I can’t wait until that day comes, where I will no longer think or imagine these things. Or I can get rid of them the second I start thinking of them.

Until then, I will take it day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute to even second by second, if and when I have to. I will do what I can to stay alive. To keep fighting. I will keep struggling. To spread hope. To help others like me realize that they are not alone. There are many like us.

I am staying alive for myself and for others. You, my family, my friends, strangers, everyone. If I make a difference in one life, if I can save just one life, than I have served my purpose. Hopefully I will save many…

History: I completely stopped my medications against doctors advice in February. I titrated off of them, so as not to get too many withdrawal symptoms. I was good for about 3-4 weeks. Then things started going downhill. My mind was not well. So my husband and family decided to fly my sister in to watch me for 2 weeks. So she came over, I was ‘okay’ for the most part. We had a great time, then she left. It has been pretty bad. My thoughts, my ideas. I made a ‘plan’ to kill myself. The intent was there at one point, but not as much anymore. I decided to tell my husband about the “plan” a few nights ago. He then decided to take Family Medical Leave to look after me. It has been 3 days, and I just realized I am not getting any better like this. I know my husbands intentions were well, but he cannot help me the way I need help.

Current Situation: I have not cleaned the house for 3 weeks, which is the longest I have ever gone without cleaning up. And I really don’t care, nor have the energy to clean. I have NO energy to do anything. I have had to force myself to do laundry every few days. I have not cooked, my husband has been cooking or buying fast food. I finally took a shower today after 3 days. I wore the same tank top and pj bottoms for 3 days. I did not leave the house, I basically stayed in bed and slept. When I was/am awake I was/am on the sofa. I don’t want to do anything, I find pleasure in nothing. I am just completely depressed and numb.

We moved here last November and I have a new psychiatrist and therapist, which of neither I really like. Long story short my therapist told me him and my psychiatrist thought I committed suicide. So, as he tells me this, I am thinking, if they thought I did this, why did they not take 2 minutes to call to make sure I was alive. I realize they have lots of patients, but seriously?? Am I wrong for thinking this? I do not want to see a therapist that does not give a shit whether I live or die. Plus, I think I pissed my psychiatrist off by stopping the medications and he has given up on me. Again, what good would it do seeing a doctor that has already given up on you. And that is why I have not gone to see either of them. I did see my psychiatrist to start new meds, he put me on the same meds and added Zoloft and basically told me there was nothing he could for me.

Sooo, the VA Hospital here is not open yet. I will be going to the Air Base Hospital tomorrow and see what they decide there, to send me to a civilian hospital (psych ward) or what.

It is time. I had hoped it would pass, but it hasn’t, and it is not getting any better. And like I wrote months ago, this is what I said I would do. If I did not get any better, I would go to the hospital.

Don’t get me wrong, I have been in and out of psych wards a million times, I know how they are and what they are about. Some of them don’t really help at all, they are like holding cells, but they keep me alive, and that is a good thing. I have not been to one in 4 years or so, which is a record for me, considering I was committed at least twice a year before 2009. I hate having my freedom taken away from me, but hey, it needs to be done.

I’ll be sure to bring a notebook and pen/pencil to write down ‘the happenings’ of my hospitalization :)

Thinking about my birthday coming up next month. Decided to do a little photo collage of me, to make a point. I DID NOT think I would make it this far, survive this long. I gave myself an expiration date of 26. As I have stated before, it is a miracle I am still alive, but I am here for a reason. This is for those that are going through really tough times and are in a dark place. PLEASE, believe that it DOES get better. LIFE IS WORTH IT! Yes, I still have crappy and depressing times, but the important thing is KNOWING that those feelings/emotions DO pass. Just because you are miserable now, does not mean you will always be miserable. I am living proof that it indeed does get better and here to tell you all of this. Take a look at these photos… imagine them ending at 18 or 19… it is difficult isn’t it? YOU ARE WORTH IT, DON’T EVER GIVE UP!!
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. It is okay to not be okay.

Can you see the pain through my eyes? Can you sense the agony that I am emitting? Can you feel the tears that are not falling?

What is this I am feeling? It is not new. I have been here before. Why does it have to hurt so much? It is so strange. To feel so much pain, so much agony… yet feel numb. It is unexplainable and so confusing. Why am I back here, why did I have to return to this forsaken place? I have crawled/scratched my way up this lifeless pit of misery many times before. So why does it feel unfamiliar… is it a new pit?

Are there different pits that I happen to fall into throughout my life? Are they reserved just for me? Why are the in my path at all? I do not need to be constantly tested for my strength. I know my strength and fortitude. I have taken many paths in my life with many ‘forks’. I have also had to make a few detours, but I have always been able to persevere.

I know life is not easy. That there are many obstacles in our paths. But why does mine seem to have so fucking many???

Maybe I was walking my head held too high and failed to see the gaping black hole in front of me… But that is not like me. I do not walk with my head held high like that. I look forward and I pay attention to my surroundings and all of the people around me. And yet, here I am… again, at the bottom of the misery pit.

I attempt to look around me, I can tell I am surrounded by death and decay. I can smell my past, it is a stench that I do not care to ever visit again. Once again, I look around, but cannot see anything. I am in complete darkness. I can sense this darkness, it is its own entity. I can start sensing its evil eyes looking upon me, longing for me to join them. It has many faces, many arms. I then start feeling the cold decayed fingers and hands reaching out for me. They grab at me, trying to get a good grip. As I stand there in total darkness, I feel various decrepit hands all over me… They grab at my arms, my legs, they are all over me. They struggle because they are weak, yet have some strength because they know the darkness, they live here, they are in their element. And they are lonely, they want/long/crave for another soul. They want to feed off of me, they want my hope, my life, my being. They need it, they must have it. I just stand there, stuck in fear and amazement, I do not fight them. I can now ‘hear’ them beckoning and pleading for me to join them. In unison they ‘tell’ me that I should join them, that they can take all of my pain, misery and agony away. They ‘say’ that I do not have to feel this way, they can make it all better, make all of it disappear. All they ask of me is to completely surrender to them, to let myself go, and they will take care of the rest. As I listen closely, I hear evil shrieking and angelic sounds. I then realize these are not voices at all, these are not human voices speaking to me. I also realize there are no sounds coming from their putrid mouths. They are communicating to me through my mind. They are in my mind. They can feel everything I am feeling and it excites them. They are feeding off my fear, my pain, my agony, my confusion and what little hope I have left.

As I stand there, I can feel them consuming the life out of me. I am not fighting them, I am allowing this. As they are consuming my being, I slowly start to feel relief, a sort of peaceful feeling starts coursing through every ounce my being. I feel home. I feel I am where I belong. This is it. This is not only the answer, but the feeling of relief I have been searching for. I just stand there and let them have their way with me. They are all greedily sucking all of my pain, my agony, my hope.

Suddenly I feel a dampness on my face, I am crying, I can feel the tears rolling out of my eyes. This snaps me back to ‘reality’, I ‘wake’ up in a daze and realize where I am and what is happening. I happen to look up and see a flicker of light. The longer I stare up, the brighter the flicker gets, it is glowing. This terrifies the creatures, I then realize they are extremely scared of light.

I make the decision to have them stop feeding off of me. I am not giving them my being. My hope, my fear, my agony and pain… those all belong to me, not them. These are all part of who I am. It is not theirs to take.

I realize the longer I stare up directly into the light, that I am controlling how bright it gets. So I use every ounce of hope left inside of me to make that flicker turn into a mass of light. I can feel the heat from it, it is comforting and welcoming. Everything these creatures had sucked out of me was flowing back into my pores. All of my hope was coming back, along with my fear, pain and agony. The mass of light exploded, harming all of the creatures making them retreat back into the darkness. I could ‘hear’ the shrieks, I could tell they were angry and in pain. And just like that they were gone. I could not feel or sense them any longer.

Just then a ladder made of hopes and dreams appeared before me. When I touched this ladder my fingers/hand went right through it, this ladder was not solid. I did that a few times. There was no way I could climb out of here on this thing. It was not ‘real’. I knew what I had to do, I had to believe. So I closed my eyes and put all of my belief and faith in this ladder of hopes and dreams. It then became solid, and I was able to climb my way out of that pit of darkness. That ladder was made up of my hopes and dreams. I still have enough hope and dreams to keep me alive, to help me find my way out of the darkness.

Out of the darkness, I now find myself in a field of nothingness. I am alone, there is nothing around me. It is not dark, nor is it bright, it is just enough light for me to see. To see I am alone in this field. I am not clothed, I am cold and scared. I am not sure where to go, or what to do. I see that the gaping hole has closed itself. I look around, there is no where to go. I am confused and completely lost. So I just sit and wait…

NOTE: I wrote this yesterday. I am obviously in dark place right now. I have been in bed for 2 days, which is extremely unusual for me. I usually am able to force myself up and do things. But not this time. I am scared. I am terrified of my thoughts and what I may do. Knowing that, I stay in bed. It is my safe haven. I wrote this story giving me a way out of the darkness. Unfortunately, I am still stuck at the bottom. But I can see that flicker, so that keeps me going. I am hanging in there. I know this will pass… I just have to make it through… I do not know how long this will last. I do not know reasons for feeling the way I do. I do not think there were any triggers to bring me here. I just don’t know. Until I make it out, I will keep writing and keep drudging through.

I finally realized why I have been feeling a bit like a fraud and hypocrite. It is time to come forward and be completely honest with myself and all of you. You deserve the truth as do I.

I make all these posts on Facebook and write in this blog about Hope this and Hope that, Life gets better, la-di-freakin-da… Well, that is only the surface. Yes, as previously written, I did change my attitude about life, I did forgive myself for everything I have done, and released the guilt that had been holding me down for so long. And, yes, doing all of that has made a huge difference in my life. Some days, I do love my life, but other days, I don’t. I have written that life does get better, and also gets worse, which is the truth. Life can’t always be rainbows and butterflies, that is just not the way life is. Life is beautiful, harsh, difficult, kind, and cruel.

I have written about my bipolar “recovery”. But I honestly don’t know how it is for others that say they are in a “recovery” phase and are doing well, because I haven’t talked to anyone about this. Maybe feeling recovered is different for everyone. Maybe there are different levels of recovery, who knows??? I sure don’t. Maybe my “recovery” is “normal”, and by “normal” I mean, it may be like this for other people with bipolar disorder or other mental illnesses.

I see myself in 3 layers, these layers are constantly changing. Currently, the top layer is the happy hopeful one. The middle one is the reasoning one, and the bottom is the “bipolar” one. Sort of like a poisonous 3 layer cake. The top layer being the frosting, it is safe to take a bite out of, it is sweet, it will not hurt or harm you, you enjoy it. The middle layer is basically just there to be the middle, it balances the top layer from the bottom layer. And the bottom layer is poisonous, you take a bite out of it, it will harm/hurt you, may even lead you to death depending on how much you eat.

So far, I have only been showing the top layer. The layer that is hopeful and always smiling. I have written a few blogs about bad days and bad times, but for the most part, I stick to the good days. The layer below the hope and smiles, is the middle layer, the reasonable/reasoning layer. It knows that I cannot be happy all the time, nor depressed all the time. It knows that life is constantly challenging, and sometimes has control to “decide” which way to go. Either to the top layer or the bottom layer. The bottom layer is my “bipolar” layer. It is dark, angry, frustrated, sad… It does not reason, it does not care about much, it hates everything. It likes to take complete control sometimes. It is a sneaky little sucker. Sometimes, slowly making its way to become top layer, other times just exploding its way within seconds to become the top layer.

My point is that while I say I am doing and feeling well, the truth is, yes, I may be feeling well, but deep down inside I still feel a little bit of hopelessness, and that desire to die. I don’t feel like I have been lying to you all, I just have been leaving out particular details. But leaving out details is sort of lying, isn’t it? It is not the total truth. I have my reasons for leaving out these particular details. I think I was lying to myself more so than anything and didn’t want to come to the realization that I may never quite truly be completely “better”. Maybe I was scared, and did not want to accept that… I don’t know.

Even when I am doing well, I still have fleeting suicidal thoughts. Unfortunately they are always there, in the back of my mind. Sometimes, those thoughts make themselves known, other times they just chill and hang out back there. BUT they are just thoughts. I would never act upon them. When I get extremely angry those thoughts then become desires and then I start imagining ways to “go”. I try my hardest to not let these thoughts/desires take control. Sometimes it is real difficult, I just stop reasoning and caring (I am in the poisonous layer). What helps me at these times, is that my husband knows when I get like this and he does not leave my side, and then these “desires” eventually do pass. To be honest, if he were to leave me if I were in this mindset, I do not know what I would do. Thankfully I don’t have to worry about that, because he knows better than to leave me alone at these times.

Sometimes I go to bed and wish that I “go” in my sleep and never wake up. YES, I still have these thoughts, even though I am feeling okay. I honestly do not know why. Maybe I have been thinking like this for so long, that it is only natural for me to still think this way, it has become a second nature. I still have catastrophic thoughts too. When in a vehicle, I imagine a wreck, crashing into a wall or anything and me flying through the window, blood and guts everywhere, to my death. I see myself, all bloody and disfigured. These thoughts are disturbing to me, yet also calming. I imagine an airplane exploding and plummeting to my house, landing where ever it is that I am and crushing me to death. I have an extremely vivid imagination. These are only a few of my disturbing thoughts, believe me there are many more.

I may be happy, but I still hurt inside, I still feel that agonizing pain of just being. I cannot explain it, nor why I would still feel this way when I am happy. It just is. Sometimes when I am completely and utterly happy, I can feel it in my chest, a complete fullness and it makes me want to cry, happy tears though. During these particular happy moments, I do not have any of those disturbing thoughts or the suicidal thoughts. But these truly happy moments do not last long. They range from hours to 1 day to 1 week. I LOVE it when I feel like this. It is such a wonderful feeling. So the point here is, that there ARE times when I am completely and utterly happy, and it is these moments, whether they last 1 day or 1 week out of an entire year, make it worth struggling through all the other bull shit. At least for me it is. Just 1 day of complete happiness, is worth 364 days of struggle.

So, there it is. The complete and honest truth… all of it. My mind is scatterbrained much of the time, so I try to make as much sense as I can when writing, hoping the flow of my thoughts make sense when written down. And while I am writing I sometimes forget some thoughts or ideas I was going to write about, like now, I totally forgot what I was going to write about, hoping that it will come back to my mind…

Okay, I remember what else I wanted to write about. I know lots of stuff I write about may contradict what I write at other times. But that is the way I am. Bipolar is defined as: having or relating to two poles or extremities. So being contradictory is natural for me. Although by definition being contradictory is a proposition so related to another that if either of the two is true the other is false and if either is false the other must be true, is not the case for me. I believe both cases to be true to a certain extent. Am I making any sense? So maybe I am not contradicting myself. I don’t know… as usual, now I am just blabbering :)

Hopefully my point came across and not found to be offensive to anyone. Thanks for taking the time to read this.

Note: This just took me a long time to write, I do not feel like proofreading it, so excuse any spelling or grammatical errors (which I tend to be anal about most of the time) :)

(this has worked for me, just a suggestion)
If you have been suicidal in the past or are and have a history of taking pills/overdosing, it may be a good idea to invest in a small safe box. You have to have a family member that is living with you willing to help you with this one. My husband does it for me. ALL of the medications are locked up in this box and only he can get to it. Every Sunday he takes out the pills I need for the week, and puts them in a weekly pill case. If you don’t feel comfortable with a weekly pill case, then just have them take out the pills for the day. When I start feeling suicidal or am not doing well, I let him know, and he puts the weekly pill case in the box and gives them to me daily, until I tell him otherwise. This has saved my life and has taken out the temptation to even want to take them/overdosing. (Plus the fact that I cannot stand charcoal deters me quite a bit too, yuck!).

If you are a family member with a loved one that has a history of taking pills/overdosing and you are willing to do this you may want to discuss this with them and see if they would be willing to do this.
A safe box can be bought anywhere, mine was from Wal-Mart and it cost around $30.00 and was well worth every penny. They have some with keys and some with a PIN code.